Yankeetorial: Under MLB's playoffs formula tying Baltimore is not an option

This is a Yankee bath salts-level passion blog. Sometimes, well, we get carried away. Our motto - passed at the recent convention - is, "Anything said about the Yankees is fightin' words, and never apologize for comparing the Redsocks to rape or Hitler." (In the last draft, we deleted the section on Islam and Ed Whitson.) (Also, we removed the "dammit!" a decision I still believe makes us look like a bunch of squat-to-pees.) As far as I'm concerned, a Yankee loss is like being raped by Hitler.

Nevertheless, like the Bush administration - which only existed in legend and mythology - we prefer faith-based conclusions over anything tied to - yuecch - numbers. Dammit, the Yankees don't need policy wonks! They need a good, solid steel-toed kaboom in the caboose! Dammit!

But this is fact. I looked it up on Wikipedia. Get it? Fact.

If we end up tied with Baltimore for the AL East division, we must play them in a one-game series. Under the new, lawyer-written MLB post-season by-laws, there is no tie-breaker formula for first place in divisions. If two teams are tied, they play a one-season game. (By the way, we went 9-9 against the Showalter Shoes in the reg season, so that wouldn't kick in anyway.) Right now, Baltimore would have home field advantage in this winner-take-all monstrocity, by virture of its better record against AL teams. (We went 13-5 in interleague; they were 11-7. Of course, that was June-July, a different world. Dammit.)

So if we tie Baltimore - a very possible outcome - we must go there and beat them. If we lost that game - a very possible outcome - we then board a plane and fly to Oakland (currently the Wild Card leader) for a second one-game season.

Two win-or-die games. CC pitches one - regardless of shakiness - and Andy or Kuroda pitch the second. Girardi would mix and match, and if we are still standing, it's Phil Hughes and the unused Andy-Kuroda - who would start against the Texas Rangers.

Yeah, the Texas Rangers. Best lineup in the AL, and twice denied the championship. Yeesh. What an outlook. Face two young, rising teams, both with hatred for the Yankees, then go into Texas for a best-of-five.

About 20 years ago, American sports abandoned the "May the best team win." It is now, "May the hottest team at the end win." (See: NY Giants, 2011) But if this old and tired team has proven anything this season, it is that it is prone to run out gas, again and again. We really need to win this division.

Right now, being tied for first means we are - in fact - behind.

When you know it's going to be a long day

Two in a row... will we ever do it again?

LOOK CAREFULLY

For the first time in ninety days, at the end of this evening you will see the Yankees trailing behind.

Our fuel pump is failing and our speeding vehicle is slowing.

 Fading.  Into the horizon.

Soon we'll be a spec.  Unseen and unnoticed.

Goodbye 2012.

Goodbye the decade.

If the Yankees blow this, I have a suggestion for who we should hire as manager next year

Sign the petition.

It Will Be A Lot Easier If You Listen To Me

I have said from the outset, that this team is not a champion.

After watching a relatively together, albeit aging, Yankee team come north from Tampa, it was obvious we didn't have the bones to win it all.

The next bugaboo, of course, would be the plague of injuries ( which does correspond to the aging element ) about to beset us.

Some of us ( me ) had already written off Pineda and all of our so-called, " killer B's." As soon as Gardy tweaked his elbow, I knew he would be done for the year.  There is no need to mention the "karma" that Mariano's knee injury brought upon us.  The fantastic inventory of young catchers in the system melted into oblivion.

The parade of dismay and bad decision-making has continued up to and including the gallant ( though idiotic ) Texiera, who ran when he should have sat.  The tough guy who delivered us another 2
weeks ( I think the rest of the regular season, actually) of Spencer Pearce at first base.

Add this to the cast of clowns we often see in the line-up ( Jones, Nix, Dickerson, Nunez, Stewart, Rapada), and you have to know this is not a team that can win two in a row against anybody.

                                                                    

The red Socks sold everyone for a future and they are still better than us.

This is painful, I know.

The solution?

Just turn off the dials, email your friends, and check-out.  This Yankee season is over.  Watch football, or the US Men's Soccer team trying to qualify for the next world cup.  Soon, there will be colorful leaves in New england, and apples to be picked.

From a Yankee baseball perspective,  tonight begins a decade of misery.

Yankeetorial: We did the impossible last night. We gave Boston cause to celebrate

Last night, to the children of Boston, we were Santa Claus. They went to bed thinking their team couldn't beat a throw rug, and they wake up today with video of Redsocks exploding from the dugout, partying at pitchers' mound - with the Christmasy prospect of facing David Phelps tonight. We brought Boston the rarest of gifts: a 2012 moment to treasure.

This Yankee team is descending into the realm of 2004 - of Javier Lopezes, Horace Clarkes and Ed Whitsons.

Losing a must-game to a last-place team is nothing to us. We're the mighty Yankees who fell at home by Toronto two weeks ago, when the Blue Jays hadn't won in seven games. To losing franchises, we bring more creative gifts than Martha Stewart made in her lifetime. We lose in a shootout, then we lose in a shutout. We leave enough runners on base to win five pennants, and we've done it all season. When a leadoff man gets on, is there any reason to think he will score. Nope. We might hit a home run. That's about it.

And then there is Jeter. God bless him. Lately, writers have begun suggesting that he deserves to be MVP. Because he does. But the theory always runs along these lines: He deserves to be MVP because the Yankees won the division. Put them in third, and the award should go to someone else. Thus, while we face this epic disgrace, we are screwing the Captain at the same time.

But this crash won't end Oct. 4. Take a good look at the 2012 Redsocks. Because that's us next year in the post-apocalypse. We gave them a reason to celebrate last night. And tonight, they get David Phelps. Merry Christmas, Boston.

Yankees poetry: Stopping by third on an #RISPfail evening

What base this is, I'm sure I know;
My journey often ends here, though;
I shall not make the short trip home,
Back to the dugout I must go

We have a man on third once more,
The fans, they sense a chance to score;
Alas, their hopes again are dashed
Just like so many times before

Our OBP is out of sight!
But I shant score a run tonight,
As Swish and Grand hit lazy flies
and A-Rod takes a called third strike

A 10-game lead we couldn't keep,
and lo, we're now in trouble deep.
A season poised to go to sleep,
A season poised to go to sleep.



*- Note: #RISPfail is Twitter-speak for "Can't anyone here drive in a freakin' run??"

Once again, we can't win two in a row

We may be watching the worst Yankee meltdown since 2004. At least that monstrosity happened fast.

This has been a two-month root canal, and now - are you kidding me? We're about to fall apart in Boston? Are you kidding me?

OK. Fine. But I gotta tell you: If it happens, I'm all for the Steinboys cutting payroll next winter. If we're going to collapse like this, if we're going to disgrace the Yankee name, we can surely do it less expensively.

Will anybody on this team step up? Are the Redsocks, as an organization, simply six months ahead of us?

Tonight, Suzyn Dressed For America

Three men, one bench, one thread

Take two and hit to right.

Also, never fall in love with your curveball.

Yankeetorial: Could Teixeira's courageous dive turn this race?

It was the Bruce Willis moment. He needed to beat the throw, and he did, dammot, he did! He ran so hard he ripped up his leg, and then he flat-out dove into first - gutsiest act of the season - he beat it, goddamot! - and the ump was watching some skirted blonde in Row 3. So Bruce Willis gets the shaft.

The game ended in fury, outrage, disgrace. If it happened in the NFL Sunday, the owners would have settled with the refs' union by now.

But lo and behold, we mauled Baltimore for nine innings on Sunday. We took a 5-0 lead, survived Freddy Garcia, then tacked on what in the hell nights of August would have been a week's worth of runs. Tonight, we see if this team -without Teix for two weeks, assuming the Yankees are telling the truth - can find what we haven't seen since July.

Momentum.

The Wretchedsocks will be lurking like Bond supervillains with one final trick up their sleeves. Ever since Boston punted the Father, Son and Holy Ghost to LA, the frathouses have circled this series as the final games of interest. This could salvage the memory of Bobby V's last days. If they sweep us, or take two of three, we again become the listing, dead-in-the-water tanker -- and they'll laugh at us all winter, as we did them last year.

I don't know what galvanizes a team. I recall Phil Linz tossing a harmonica at Yogi, or Jeet's dive into the stands, or the Gerbil charging Pedro from the dugout. Right now, the injustice of Teixeira's magnificent effort - and the price he paid - could put that moment up there in the pantheon of Yankee memories. If we survive this race, it could top his walkoff playoff HR as Teix's greatest Yankee moment.

All because the ump was checking out that hussy. Bruce Willis survives. Go figure.

Two in row, goddammot. Tonight. Close your eyes. Think two in a row.

Links

NFL replacement referee throws pants
Bobby V loses it on radio
Ump Jerry Meals looks at butterfly

Who Am I?

One game up on September 10?

I'll take that anytime.

In a minute.

I would soil my pants for that.

It is my dream.

I don't care how i got there or who I had with me.

I'll take it and have a cigar!

Who am I?

Have a look.

                                                                                                

Yankeetorial: In another era, the Nats would be saving Stephen Strasburg's arm for us

The regular season has ended in Joba-like fashion for former future Yankee Stephen Strasburg, who pitches for the Washington Nats, the NL's version of the Tampa Rays. (By that, I mean their success stems from finishing last for a decade and always draftng first. Eventually, you score some players.)

Ten years ago, Yankee fans would watch each Strasburg pitch with a torrent of drool strong enough to douse a BP oil rig gas fire. We'd rejoice hearing that Washington is protecting our investment. In 2017, when Stasburg sheds his chains and becomes a free man, old George would snap him up like a pretzel - that is, if he hadn't already drained the system for him in a trade.

Now, though, meh. When Strasburg reaches his Scott Boras moment, he'll probably wind up in Texas, the new Yankees. Or the Dodgers, the future new Yankees. Hell, by then, who knows - the Redsocks might have gone full loop and aim to be the new Yankees redeaux.

What's happening? Why are other teams turning into the Yankees. I believe we're seeing baseball's version of the political super Pac. Today's new owners are so incredibly rich that spreadsheets no longer matter. We're seeing assholes with the resources of the Koch brothers or Sheldon Adelson or George Soros, people with practically infinite amounts of money. Remember when Ross Perot ran for President in 1992, and how so much was made about the fact that he was a billionaire? Good grief, the Kochs could buy and sell him 50 times over.

The Dodgers absorbed Boston's Big Three contracts without flinching, the same way Texas overwhelmed Yu Darvish with cash. Soon, every team will own its own TV network too. (One could argue that the Yankee dynasty of the late 1990s was a result of their advantage from YES money.)

Meanwhile, the Yankees look tired of big contracts, tired of injury-prone oldsters, weary from the bloat of superstars who play beyond their years. We are run by old money, third generation heirs. They laid down their money in 2008, when their dad was dying. Ever since, neither has wanted to spend like their father.

This is not to knock them. Remember: Old George sank us into some hellishly deep pits. From 1983 to 1994, the Yankees we were the worst team money could buy, poster child for American incompetence. The Steinboys surely remember those years. Spending big does not ensure winning.

But it's hard to imagine the Yankees doing it by the methods of Washington and Tampa. (Keep in mind, though, that we stank so badly in 1990 and 1991 that we selected the first high schooler in the draft; his name was Derek Jeter.) The key is our farm system. And this was not a good year for it.

Our top-rated prospects fizzled. Even though some others rose - hell, that's the natural churn within a system. Baltimore has two of the three best prospects in baseball, according to MLB. All the teams we must beat have more highly regarded prospects than we do. This year will be remembered as the season the Yankees received absolutely no injection of youth, (beyond David Phelps.) He isn't enough. Check the roster at Scranton, and we might get zilch next year, too. (Hello, Adam Warren.) 

So Strasburg is saving his arm for someone. Not us.

Then again, Bryce Harper grew up a diehard blotto Yankee fan. He's signed through 2015. Will we be ready? Will we be willing?

Congratulations, Michael Pineda: Lunchables Yankee Employee of the Wonderful Month of August

Congratulations, Michael.

Only six months left to Yankee debut!

Two in a row?

Dare we dream?

The Pattern For Playoff Success Emerges

Good morning.

It is now clear to me what MUST happen if the Yankees are going to have any success in the post-season.

I know.  We are not likely to get there.

Nonetheless, there is only one thing the Yankees can and MUST do, if they do reach post season play.

Simply put; they have to win the first game every time.

This team has proven, time and time again, that it can no longer win back to back games in series that matters.

In a five game series, if we win game one and every other game, we win.  Same for a seven game series.

If we lose game one, we are done.  Gone.  Finished.

You can mark us down as, " unable to compete."

It is as simple as that.

Yankeetorial: We're overdue, all right. But for what?

Last night, it was all the ump's fault. That mean old umpire! Blaming them is always fun. It simply requires you to suspend reality and assume Arod would hit a HR, and that our bullpen, which has given back more than Mother Theresa, would do its job. Oh well. Those dirty umps did it. Not us.

Curtis Granderson had nothing to do with it. The Grandyman has been a fine Yankee, a good person and credit to the franchise. Great role model. Bright future after baseball. And right now, I can't stomach the sight of him twinkle-toeing to the plate. Last night, he came up twice with critical runners on base. He struck out. He popped up. When I see him, the year becomes 1985, and we are playing Danny Tartabull. Today, the only upside I can think of to missing the playoffs is the hope that this guy can take his knee-socks and 200 strikeouts to another city.

Then there is CC Sabathia, our "ace." He might be hurt. I hope he's hurt. Isn't that horrible to say? But if he's hurt, he has an excuse. If not, he's done. In the season's most important games - games we must win - he has turned into Freddy Garcia Jr. No team wins with two Freddy Garcias in its rotation.

The Polliannas out there keep saying Grandy and CC are "overdue." They say that about Swisher, Raul, Andruw and Russell Martin. Trouble is, this isn't random sequencing in a card game. This is pressure baseball, the end of a pennant race, and players who have either forgotten how to adjust or who physically cannot do it. Redsock fans spent the month of September 2011 waiting for Carl Crawford and John Lackey to get hot. Overdue? Gimmie a break.

So today, guess who's pitching? Freddy. Seriously, does anyone reading this blog right now think we have a chance? At best, Freddy will go five and give up three. It's possible he will go two and give up seven and counting. Maybe our batting order - without Teixeira, who re-injured himself yesterday - will sputter and groan, and maybe score some runs. But this game has all the markings of the 10-9 shoot-out that we lose on a walk-off.

We haven't lost on a walk-off lately, have we? Yep. We're overdue.

Another loss

Teixeira to umps: Vai tomar no cu.